Title: Mother Earth and Father Sky
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the gentle souls in this fic, though god knows I wish I knew them.Mutant Enemy and that wanker Joss Whedon get credit for their creation. I'm just fantasizing a little.
Rating: Hmmmgood questionlet's be safe and say PG-13.
Spoilers: Well, none that I know of. This is just my little world. Very AU.
Summary: 2nd Lt. Willow Rosenberg is assigned to China Beach and meets up with a mysterious Air Force nurse who saves her life and changes her view of the world forever. The gang shows up here (just imagining Anya in uniform had me both giggling and interested) This is for all of the female military personnel (both European and American) who gave their lives in Vietnam:
(Vietnam Women's Memorial). Thanks to Rona's wonderfully in-depth knowledge of British military history for the help on the UK military personnel serving in Vietnam.
Copyright information: All characters are copyright of Mutant Enemy, the story itself is copyright property of Dark Delight Scriptions and may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express permission of the author. Copyright infringement is a federal offense and infractions will be prosecuted to the fullest intent of the law.

0700 hours, 1968, China Beach

She walked along the empty streets wearing nothing but a flak vest and a very well worn pair of "Jungles", the ripstop jungle uniform and ventilated jungle boots used frequently by US troops. Fires licked the frames of smashed windows and overturned busses. She felt the tight grip of a hand within hers and she realised that there was another person with her, someone who felt the icy fear trickle through her veins just like she did. Turning her head slightly, she saw the blond woman next to her with tears streaming down her face as her clear blue eyes surveyed the carnage before them. VietCong soldiers were running in and out of buildings rounding up the men for conscription into their army and killing those who resisted.

"This wasn't supposed to happen,"the blonde whispered softly. "They told us we were safe. Didn't we just go through all of this?"

She found that she lacked the words to comfort the weeping woman. Lifting her battered Leica from its place hanging about her neck, she looked through the lens and clicked. She had pulled her head back from the camera to get her bearings when the grim face of a soldier appeared abruptly before her. He lifted the butt of his rifle to her face, growling angrily at her in Vietnamese and the darkness swallowed her whole.

2nd Lt. Willow Rosenberg awoke suddenly, a thin sheen of sweat covering her body from the humidity, even at that early hour. She shuddered involuntarily as the invisible tendrils of her dream clung to her like her moisture soaked uniform. Heaving herself up from the cot she appropriated in the Motor Pool (which was the only quiet place when there was partying going on near the mess hall), she wandered over to the open hole someone jokingly called a window in the side of the corrugated tin building. The early morning surf lapped quietly along the pristine shores of China Beach, the sun's rising stained the sky a purplish hue. Drawing in deep draughts of the clear sea air, Willow tied on her jungle boots and headed toward the ghostly white dunes.

The Vietnam conflict had escalated with the Tet Offensive in Saigon and the not even the popular R&R spot for multinational soldiers was immune to the pall of unease that settled over the continent. The collection of makeshift bivouacs in this small seaside base were practically filled to capacity with soldiers who were either recuperating from their injuries or taking some much needed leave to relieve the tensions war often brings. Lt. Rosenberg had originally been assigned to the MACV (Military Assistance Command, Vietnam) in Saigon with the Marine Corps in early 1967. But when the Tet Offensive in January of 1968 made things in the city more than a little dangerous, her father, Major General Ira Rosenberg of the 3rd Marines in Da Nang, called in a favour, got Willow's MOS changed to "ground photographer" and had her assigned to China Beach to sit out the war in relative safety. While she had studied aerial photography at Quantico, she'd hoped to see a little more "action" as an officer. Daddy dear poured cold water on those hopes real quick. General Rosenberg had nightmares thinking about his only daughter trapped in some field hospital near Saigon when the fighting got ugly.

Wandering aimlessly in the surf, Willow ran her fingers through her unkempt mane of short red curls. Normally she didn't care about her appearance but when it came to her hair, she was vanity incarnate. She practically howled in frustration when her silken locks were shorn for OCS. Now Willow was glad they had done it as it had grown back thicker and more manageable than before. She cast a glance toward shore and noticed a lone soldier sitting in the sand, apparently watching her. Quirking a curious eyebrow, she left the water and plopped herself down beside him.

"Find anything interesting out there?" Willow asked.

"Nah," the soldier said with a smirk. "Just a buncha fish and some skinny chick."

"Very funny, Corporal Harris." the redhead commented wryly. "I might make it so that you'll have KP for the rest of your life, you keep that up." Corporal Alexander Harris was her childhood friend from Sunnydale where they grew up. They were both very competitive with each other and even entered the Marines to see who could take the constant pounding the most. After boot camp though, Xander preferred to be company of his squad buddies doing the "manly" stuff so he and Willow drifted apart. She went off to Officer's Candidate School and he found himself in the 3rd Marines leading a squad of very green infantrymen. He was badly wounded during an ambush and found himself here in China Beach feeling lucky that he wasn't dead or sent stateside for the rest of the war. Mostly he was glad for the opportunity to revive his friendship with Willow.

"Now now, Willowerm, I mean Lieutenant," he corrected himself, wincing underneath her withering stare. "You know I'm just kiddin' "

"Yeah yeah, tell that one to someone who believes you." She poked her toes into the sand and began wriggling them around. "Have you seen Buffy around? Thought she'd be up by now."

"Nope. Think she was out on patrol again last night. Heard she helped drag in a group of wounded ANZACs. They were pretty shot up." Xander noted as he stared out into the churning surf.

"Greeaat. That means she'll be extra special moody today. Remind me to look up that Sgt. Angelus she met while on leave in Bali. I think she needs some TLC from the guy and a little vacation herself," Willow stretched languidly. "Chow time. Ready for some breakfast?"

Cpl. Harris was just about to answer when the loud thump thump thump of medivac helicopters filled the still morning air. Shouts of "Incoming wounded!" popped up around the encampment as litter bearers and military nurses poured out of the makeshift military hospital on the base.

Willow and Xander looked at each other with sorrow in their eyes. It was going to be a long day.

TO BE CONTINUED